


They Will Call Us Names

by castles



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, use of ethnic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castles/pseuds/castles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell her that I'm a kike."</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Will Call Us Names

After both of them had been checked by the ship's doctor and given dry clothes, Charles started over, this time using his real voice. He re-introduced himself, introduced Moira and briefly explained why they were after Shaw, known to Erik as Schmidt. When he tentatively began to elaborate on what he'd told Erik in the water, about their "tricks", about how very much not alone they were, Moira interrupted. She had pressing questions regarding Erik's identity and his connection to Shaw. This was her job. Mutant bonding could wait.

"Mr. Lensherr, how did you come to know Sebastian Shaw?"

Charles slipped into Erik's mind at this point, reassuringly, _You don't have to answer_. Erik gave him a curious look and Charles felt the metal floor beneath their feet hum for a brief second.

"Mr. Lensherr"'s way of saying, _Obviously_.

But he did answer Moira's questions, eyes trained on Charles the whole time.

 

*

  


Charles's first go at Cerebro left him with a terrible headache, but that hardly deterred him from chatting away at full speed, getting what seemed like ten words in per second as they went back into the facility, Cerebro coordinates safely tucked in one of Erik's trouser pockets.

"I'm lucky, really, just a headache. Considering how it was all so theoretical. Hank - brilliant young man - had never actually met a telepath in his life, you know, I checked," Charles tapped his temple. "But I do wonder if there wasn't a nudge in the right direction with the data from the CIA, someone guiding his hand in a subtle way. I mean, Shaw's telepath friend, the sheer number of mutants Cerebro allowed me to sense... Maybe there are more of us mindreaders out there. Maybe there were others like us before." He smiled then and continued in what seemed like a non sequitur, "And to think less than twenty-four hours ago you were ready to leave."

Erik said nothing, just vaguely nodded and looked at Charles appraisingly.

"Would you just _speak_ ," Charles demanded. "It's the best way to keep me out of your head, really. You don't, I get curious, it's tempting." There was a friendly smile accompanying the words and everything and his tone was light and joking. But the threat was very real and it ruined the effect.

Erik cocked his head a bit, seemingly unfazed, "What else can you do? Can you hurt people? Short of telling them to set themselves on fire, I mean."

Charles frowned. " _Hurt_ people? Well, I can't say I've ever felt the need. An extraordinarily useful thing I _can_ do, though, is that I can learn and teach by just touching someone's mind. In fact, that's how I taught Raven how to drive," Charles bragged. "You see, I was too busy with my thesis and it was either that or-"

"Oh," Erik interrupted. "And here I was expecting you'd say you could turn yourself into your birthstone."

Credit to Erik, he deadpanned fantastically, he just couldn't sustain it for long. At least his toothy grin was charming.

 

*

  


Depending on his mood and the quality of the liquor, Charles could be a very sassy drunk.

Mood and liquor being just right, Charles spent most of their one and only night in Virginia referring to their latest recruit as Lamarck and doing humorous, but completely inaccurate impersonations of Moira's partner, Levine. Erik was much better at it, his impersonation of Juan Péron in particular was pitch perfect. It got Charles wistful.

"Ah, South America. I've always wanted to go. I was planning to, in my second year at Oxford, for Botany research. But I had Raven to think about."

"You saw mutants there with Cerebro, didn't you? Once we've... dealt with Shaw, we should go recruiting down under."

"I don't think the CIA would be too happy about this idea, my friend," Charles countered, scrunching his nose, but excitement at the prospect was evident in his tone.

Erik smirked at that and downed what was left of his whiskey. "It would be our independent research project, then. Even better."

And this was why Erik was the love of Charles' life.

 

*

  


Charles had told Erik the story about how he found Raven in his kitchen and got his family to foster her many times. Erik had been very curious about it, about how much tinkering had been necessary, and to precisely how many people. So Erik knew Charles had been barely out of childhood when he'd managed the feat. But knowing the numeric age was different from _seeing_ how very young Charles was.

"I am quite aware that I was a dorky looking kid and that my clothes were ostentatious and ridiculous, if that's what you were thinking. No need to tell me," Charles said cheerfully from his desk when he'd noticed Erik staring at one of the old pictures in the library. Charles liked that one because it was the first picture he had where Raven was smiling.

"I was thinking that if I had the same control over my powers that you had over yours at this age," Erik pointed at the picture, "I could have saved my family."

Charles wanted to say, _I was never starved to death, Erik_. But how very obvious was that.

 

*

  
Erik did most of the showing when they were on their recruitment trips. So much so that potential recruits often thought Charles was only there for the telling. Angel and Darwin were the only ones who noticed what he did behind the curtains.

No one batted an eyelash when Angel embarked - still dressed in her work clothes and a jacket - in a first class flight to Washington. No one spared Darwin a second glance when Charles got him a very fancy room in a very fancy hotel after their long cab drive. The world could be perfect when you were around Charles Xavier.

"Our friendship is taking quite a toll on my vanity, you know," Charles confessed in good humor. They were in Chicago and the pretty hotel clerk Charles had flirted with earlier that morning had just nodded at him politely after giving Erik a full once-over and her brightest, most charming smile. Complete with coy lip-bite.

Her existence had barely registered with Erik, but he did turn back to take an appraising look at the woman after Charles' comment. Once they got into the elevator, he said, "Tell her that I'm a kike."

Charles flustered.

"It's what I am, Charles." Charles' approach to foul, degrading, real world words exasperated Erik to no end. Charles had no right, not with his power, not when his upbringing guaranteed that Charles had been exposed to them from the cradle. "But maybe you'd rather convince her I'm not one, even when I'm between her legs. I assume it wouldn't be much different from conveniently convincing roomfuls that Darwin and Angel don't stick out despite being nig-"

" _ **Enough**_ , Erik. That's quite enough." They were in an elevator and Charles was exhausted and frustrated and god, was an elevator not the place for this. He rubbed a hand over his face, then through his hair. "Here's what I'll do: I'll go to my room. I'll take a shower, then I'll go to bed. I suggest you do the same and then we can be civilized in the morning."

"Pity, I thought we'd have a round of chess. You're better at confrontations on a chessboard."

Charles snorted at that. He was so tired. "I know I'm a disappointment to you in many ways, my friend."

Erik brought the elevator to a halt with his power, then, and took a deep breath before firmly cupping Charles' face. "You know very well how I feel about you," he said tenderly, "Not a disappointment. Never will be. Not to me. Remember that when they start calling us names."


End file.
